


Don't You Fret

by wewereneverhomeless (hopewithfeathers)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopewithfeathers/pseuds/wewereneverhomeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>set in early season three; Dean is having nightmares and Sam is tired of not helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Fret

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is my first supernatural fic, your thoughts would be awesome!

When Sam wakes up for the third night in a row to Dean crying out on the other bed, he decides enough is enough. He’s done with just lying there in the dark and listening to Dean whimper in his sleep, and trying not to cry himself. The last two times, he’d waited it out, and even when Dean woke up screaming, he pretended he was asleep. He knew if he even talked to Dean right then, he’d end up begging Dean to let him help. 

Sam knows there’s not much he can do to ward off nightmares of hellhounds, but he’s sure as hell going to try. Sam decides they really need a new expression for that, because he’s going to make sure hell is not certain. He’ll do anything to save his brother. 

Sam listens to Dean mumbling and thrashing around for a moment, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and letting them adjust to the dark motel room. Once he’s only half-asleep, Sam slides from his bed, hesitantly approaching Dean’s so that his legs bump the side. 

“Dean,” he whispers, clearing his throat. “Dean, man, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” Dean doesn’t respond other than jerking his leg up, like he’s kicking something, and letting out a pained groan. Sam bites his lip. The covers are thrown down the side of the bed, and Sam can see that Dean’s sweating, soaking the sheets with it even though the air is on. 

“Sammy,” Dean mumbles, and Sam jerks in surprise. Dean’s still sound asleep though, twitching up a storm. 

“I’m right here,” Sam says, closing his hand around Dean’s forearm and rubbing soothingly. “I’m here, Dean.” Dean breathes out shakily, looking even more distressed. Sam makes up his mind without really thinking about it (and he’s definitely not thinking about what Dean’s going to say tomorrow), pushing Dean over as gently as he can and wiggling in beside him. Dean mumbles something, furrowing his brow. 

“It’s okay,” Sam says, hoping Dean will stay asleep. “It’s okay, I’m right here.” Hesitantly, Sam rolls over onto his side, curling closer to Dean and placing an unsure hand on his stomach, where his shirt is riding up a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Sam winces—he doesn’t like lying to Dean, he hates it actually, but he hopes everything will be okay. Dean’s breathing speeds up, and he starts making these little hitches of breath that Sam recognizes as panic. Sam rubs a hand over his face, biting back tears, and wraps both his arms snuggly around his brother. He rests his head in the space between Dean’s shoulder and neck, pressing a swift, nervous kiss to Dean’s skin. 

Dean actually seems to relax a little. His breathing slows down again, and he starts to snore again after a few minutes. Sam grins against his shoulder, feeling his tense body finally relax, and closes his eyes. He’s right on the edge of falling asleep when he hears a grumbled “Sammy?” Sam thinks about pretending he’s asleep, but he knows Dean can tell the difference. He takes a deep breath. 

“Hey,” he says through a yawn.

“Here?” Dean mumbles. He still sounds mostly asleep, and Sam doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. 

“Yeah,” Sam says anyway, tightening his grip around Dean’s middle. “You were having a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” Dean sighs. He turns his face so that his forehead is resting against Sam’s, his mouth going slack with exhaustion. “G’night.” Sam stares at Dean’s lips a little too long, and he’s glad his brother’s eyes are closed. He flushes and closes his eyes too, feeling all warm and content, even though they’re both practically falling off the bed. 

“’Night, Dean,” Sam whispers. He clutches at Dean’s t-shirt with shaking hands, like he hasn’t done since he was little and terrified of monsters. He knows how likely it is that he’ll lose Dean, no matter how much he wishes and desperately plans so that he doesn’t have to. Dean wakes up a little at the contact, blinking his eyes open halfway so that he can focus on Sam’s face.

“Hey,” he says, somehow still managing to look stern. “Everything’s gonna be alright, Sammy.” Dean pulls him closer, tucking Sam’s head under his chin like he used to. This time Sam’s stomach gives a funny little jolt, and he resists the urge to kiss Dean again. 

He believes it a little, when Dean says it. Maybe everything really will turn out okay. At least, as okay as it can ever be for them. As long as Dean can stay with him, Sam doesn’t really need to worry about anything else.


End file.
